Podcast: Play in new window | Download
Subscribe: Apple Podcasts | Spotify | Amazon Music | Android | iHeartRadio | TuneIn | RSS | More
In this episode, we perceive an attempt at persuasion, as portrayed in Sangam Literary work, Aganaanooru 202, penned by Aavoor Moolankizhaar Kannanaar. The verse is situated amidst the flowering trees of the ‘Kurinji’ or ‘Mountain landscape’ and sketches striking similes using the colours of nature.
வயங்கு வெள் அருவிய குன்றத்துக் கவாஅன்,
கயந் தலை மடப் பிடி இனன் ஏமார்ப்ப,
புலிப் பகை வென்ற புண் கூர் யானை
கல்லகச் சிலம்பில் கை எடுத்து உயிர்ப்பின்,
நல் இணர் வேங்கை நறு வீ கொல்லன்
குருகு ஊது மிதி உலைப் பிதிர்வின் பொங்கி,
சிறு பல் மின்மினி போல, பல உடன்
மணி நிற இரும் புதல் தாவும் நாட!
யாமே அன்றியும் உளர்கொல் பானாள்,
உத்தி அரவின் பைத் தலை துமிய,
உர உரும் உரறும் உட்கு வரு நனந்தலை,
தவிர்வு இல் உள்ளமொடு எஃகு துணையாக,
கனை இருள் பரந்த கல் அதர்ச் சிறு நெறி
தேராது வரூஉம் நின்வயின்
ஆர் அஞர் அரு படர் நீந்துவோரே?
In this trip to the mountains, dynamic images await us as we listen to the confidante say these words to the man, when the man is about to part away after a nightly tryst with the lady:
“In the mountain slopes, filled with radiant white cascades, after winning over the enmity of a tiger and making its herd proud, a male elephant, covered in wounds, lies along with its soft-headed, naive mate. As it raises its trunk and lets out a loud sigh in the rocky highlands domain, fine and fragrant flower clusters of the Kino tree nearby, soar akin to sparks that rise, when a blacksmith blows into his bellows, while stepping on the pedal of the furnace treadle. And then, appearing akin to many, small fireflies, these flowers bunch together and scatter on sapphire-hued, dark bushes in your mountains, O lord! In the dead dark of the night, when the hooded head of the spotted snake is severed by roaring thunder in those wide spaces, with an unrelenting heart, with only a spear for company, through that small and stony path, densely packed with darkness, without any concern, you walk to arrive here. Could there be anyone, who experiences a great suffering than her, as she worries about you?”
Let’s get going on the mountain trek! The confidante starts by describing the man’s country, and to do that, she paints an image of a male elephant, which has defeated an attacking tiger, much to the pride of its herd, and was now resting next to its mate. At the moment, when this elephant raises its trunk and lets out a sigh, the flowers in the Kino tree nearby, seem to soar in the sky, like sparks from a blacksmith’s bellows, and then pulled by inevitable gravity, fall down and settle on the dark bushes, akin to swarming fireflies, the confidante details. Then, she goes on to talk about the dangerous path the man takes at night, walking in the dead darkness, when according to their belief, thunder and lightning struck and severed the heads of snakes, with only a spear for company, through a tiny, stony path, and without worrying about a thing, he comes intent on his tryst with the lady. The confidante concludes by declaring that there’s no one, who would feel a greater sorrow than the lady, because she’s filled with anxiety about the man’s safety, as he continues to take this walk night after night!
It’s the confidante’s way of telling the man, ‘It’s all well and good that you put so much effort to come here. But the lady is worried about you. Isn’t it your duty to put her heart at rest?’ In the scene of the victorious male elephant resting with its mate, the confidante places a metaphor for how the man had overcome difficulties many to be in the company of his beloved. Also, in the scene of the elephant’s sigh, causing the Kino flowers to rise and scatter, the confidante places another intricate metaphor for how the man’s actions was causing slander to spread in town, about his relationship with the lady. In essence, the confidante’s telling the man it’s time to marry the lady. ‘Marry her, Marry her’ indeed. but doesn’t that exquisite montage of an elephant’s sigh, spark-like Kino flowers soaring in the sky, and like a swarm of fireflies, spreading on the sapphire-hued bushes, linger so deliciously in the mind’s eyes?
